


This is On Me

by safe_haven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Irondad, Panic Attacks, if u like, really squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safe_haven/pseuds/safe_haven
Summary: A deleted scene from Infinity War from inside the flying doughnut."Peter Parker is just some 15 year old from Queens. Please let him go home."





	This is On Me

**Author's Note:**

> y'all are telling me that a 15-year-old with anxiety hopped on a spaceship to his certain death and didn't have a panic attack?? lmao okay

Peter sat on the edge of one of the metal bridges. His feet swung out beneath him, and he gazed into the inky blackness below. He could hear the distant yells of Stephen and Tony fighting again. 

_ You let a kid become a superhero? Tony, that's low. Even for you. _

_ Give me a break! You think I don't know that? You think I haven't begged the kid to stay on the ground? _

Peter sighed. He would explore the rest of the ship, but he was terrified of what he might find. Why couldn't he just turn the other way? Act like everything was okay until the next mugging? He had trapped himself, hurtling towards sure death with his selfish, asshole mentor and an arrogant doctor.

He was beginning to become tired of it.

Peter rubbed one hand roughly across the chest of the suit. It felt foreign, but sleek and smooth against his palm. He wished he had brought his clothes with him. He needed something painful to distract himself from the panicked buzzing that had started at the base of his head. It was the same panic he had felt when the building fell on him. The same panic he felt when he woke up from being knocked out to iron hands shaking him awake on the floor of an airport. Both times, he had managed to pull through alone. He had shaken off the dust, proclaimed himself Spider-Man, and kicked ass.

Why couldn't he stop the panic now?

He fell back into the cool metal floor. There seemed to be no ceiling above him. Just darkness. He thought about the uncertainty of their victory. Of his own end, rushing up to meet him. He thought about the home he left behind. Ned. MJ. Aunt May.

Tears escaped his eyes, falling down his temples and into his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth together and willing everything to go back to the way it was. The Avengers- or whoever, he didn't care at this point- could handle this on their own. He was just some 15 year old from Queens.  _ Please  _ let him go home.

Peter reached up, sliding his hands into his hair and tugging, hard. He tried to focus on the pain at his scalp.  _ Pain.  _ The coming conflict was sure to bring him so much pain. His breathing stuttered as he thought about the torture he was most certainly about to go through. His chest ached.

"Woah, kid."

Peter realized that he had failed to hear the new footsteps walking into the room. He sighed, turning his head away from the sound of Tony's voice. He didn't want to deal with anyone right now.

"You good?"

He felt someone sit next to him and take his hand in theirs. He didn't recognize the touch as Tony's. The grip was too shaky. It must have been the wizard.

"His heart rate is worryingly elevated. How do you feel, Peter?"

Peter tried to talk, but it came out as a choked sob.

"Oh, God, is he  _ crying  _ now? What's wrong with you, Parker?"

Finally, he turned his head, opening his eyes and staring up at Stephen and Tony. He was still lying on the ground, feet dangling over the edge. Stephen was kneeling next to him, and Tony was standing over his shoulder, glaring at Peter like everything in this universe was his fault.  

"It is most likely a panic attack," Stephen said. He gently placed Peter's hand back on the floor. His eyebrows drew together in worry. "Are you okay, Peter?"

Peter sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm fine."  _ Could use a hug, but with the present company, I know I won't get one. _

"What's wrong?" Stephen's voice was quiet but persistent.

Peter shrugged. "I wanna go home," was all he could get out before the tears started again.

"Yeah, well, I told you to stay on the ground. And I deployed your parachute! And I told FRIDAY to take you home! And what do you do? Sneak on the goddamn ship. This isn't a mugging, kid. And it's not Captain America. Get it through your thick skull. God, why don't you ever listen to me? You're going to  _ kill yourself  _ one of these days."

Peter just stared at his feet as they swung. He didn't have the strength to listen to this right now. As if he hadn't heard it a thousand times.

_ And if you die, I feel like that's on me. _

"Okay, thank you, Tony," Stephen said. His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "You're an enormous help."

"Hell yeah, I am! I'm the only reason this goddamn kid hasn't died yet! And now you wanna get mad at me because I'm trying to stop him from going on some suicide mission-"

Peter stood abruptly. He faced Tony, entire body shivering with the effects of the attack. He had been through hell and back without Tony there to save him. There was no reason Tony had to be here to help him through a stupid anxiety attack. He had blocked Bucky Barnes' punch. He had stolen Captain America's shield. He had faced the Vulture and come out on the other end with a Decathlon win and a date to homecoming.  

And Tony thought he was just some  _ goddamn kid? _

Tony scanned Peter's face as the teenager thought. He looked like a kicked puppy. Dirt was smeared across his forehead and his cheekbone, and his face was smooth and soft in the dim lighting. Pink lines ran across his pale skin, and tears glimmered in his eyes.

"Bad things are happening," Peter said. His voice was quiet, and it shook, but Tony heard the power and uncertainty behind the words. "And I feel like that's on me."

The ship jolted, but it didn't seem to faze any of the passengers. Peter walked past Tony, into the main control room. Earlier that day, Stephen had been in here, trapped. Alone. Helpless. That was how Peter felt now. He gazed at the stars flying past him. Specks of nothing but glitter and moonlight.

He was most certainly headed to his own death. But if he didn't, who would? He was going to go out, web-slinging and screaming.

Whoever Thanos was, and whatever lottery he was trying to play. This dumbass kid from New York was going to stop him.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm not completely satisfied with this. I wanted to write Peter more in character, uncertain and scared. Does anyone have any thoughts on this?


End file.
